


Ongoing Arrangements

by folkloare



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: F/M, Valenvaef
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:00:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24021715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/folkloare/pseuds/folkloare
Summary: A collection of Valenvaef snippets.
Relationships: Nicholai Ginovaef | Nikolai Zinoviev/Jill Valentine
Comments: 10
Kudos: 20





	1. Once Upon a Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to feed me suggestions.  
> More on viciouslosers.tumblr.com.
> 
> -
> 
> [Listen to my Ongoing Arrangements playlist on Spotify.](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0Z5fAEXwi1oaoQEGuEYidd?si=DrO9nCjzR1e4dg5wP4dTtQ)

# Once Upon a Nightmare

_The world was on fire and no one could save me but you  
It's strange what desire will make foolish people do_  
  
— **Wicked Games, Chris Isaak**

Their initial encounter in the garage left strong first impressions that would eventually lead to valuable lessons learned and careless decisions made. Jill Valentine, an elite operative of the Raccoon Police Department’s Special Tactics and Rescue Service, would have to come to terms with the fact that not everyone could be saved, nor, for that matter, deserved to be, whereas underestimating her was Nicholai’s mistake.

The deafening echo of the gunshot still rung in her ears when Jill confronted the stranger about his blatant disregard for human life. “What the fuck!” she exclaimed in disbelief.

“He was infected,” the shooter said matter-of-factly, squatting down to examine the body. He seemed pleased with the precision of his shot.

“He _might_ have been infected,” Jill retorted, unconvinced by her own words. His indifference, however, made her furious and thus she felt compelled to say something. The young woman, who prided herself on her altruism, failed to understand how someone could care so little for the well-being of their associates.

Nicholai rose and turned to leave. “Are all S.T.A.R.S. this soft?” he asked rhetorically. “No wonder so many of you are dead.”

The accusation stung, but Jill refused to let him see that and bit back. “And what are you? U.B.C.S.? Killing your own people?” she lashed out while rushing after him.

Jill’s belligerent remark made Nicholai halt on the stairs, turn, and face her. “He would have turned,” he said with an annoyed expression on his face. “Where is your sense of self-preservation?” 

Jill remained quiet, reluctant to admit that he was right.

Nicholai scoffed. “Go back to the subway station. We don’t need a bleeding heart like you getting in the way.”

As the sound of his footsteps faded, Jill stayed behind to rethink her survival strategy in the relative safety of the garage. The night was young, and who knew what other horrors still lurked outside in the ashes of what was once Raccoon City.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check [lordbhreanna's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordbhreanna) exceptional [take on this scene](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24130351) from Nicholai's point of view.


	2. Midnight Meat Train

# Midnight Meat Train

_Blood runs through your veins  
That's where our similarity ends_  
  
— **Blood, Editors**

Although the carriage’s by fluorescent light illuminated interior offered a welcome reprieve from the undead infested streets of Raccoon City above, Jill remained wary as she listened to the steady rhythm of the subway rattling along the track. But, with no immediate threat present, her adrenaline level slowly returned to normal. While the numbing effect of the hormone subsided, Jill became increasingly aware of the soreness in her limbs, until, eventually, her whole body ached from injury and exertion.

She stared into the darkness outside the window, but the lucid image of her battered reflection drew her gaze. Jill almost did not recognize the grime-stained phantom staring back at her from the glass. She looked and felt utterly miserable—not to mention the stench of sewage that clung to her like a nauseating perfume.

Out of the corner of her eye, she suddenly noticed Nicholai’s reflection. Compared to her, the U.B.C.S. operative looked remarkably unscathed. The memory of their first encounter replayed itself unbidden in Jill’s mind, and she wondered if her previous misjudgment of Carlos also warranted him a second chance. It was worth a shot.

_Alright, let’s do this,_ she thought pessimistically before rising to her feet. Jill approached Nicholai with feigned confidence but kept some distance—as if the air surrounding him was toxic and prevented her from coming closer. “So listen, I feel like we may have started things off on the wrong foot earlier,” she began, trying to sound sincere. “What do you say we set aside our differences and work together, huh?”

For a brief moment, the man eyed her shamelessly from head to toe. And, as his inquisitive gaze lingered on her bosom, the intense scrutiny he subjected her to made Jill feel uncomfortable. When Nicholai sensed her discomfort, he chuckled and said, “Then you better start making yourself useful, Miss Valentine.”

“What!?” Jill could not believe her ears. _This was obviously a mistake._ “I’ve restored the power to the subway, didn’t I? I even lured the creature away from you! Without me—”

Nicholai scoffed. “Pfft . . . child's play.”

Fatigue, fear, and anger threatened to overwhelm her. “You're a maniac, you know that?” she said, struggling to maintain her composure.

“So I have been told,” he answered, with just a hint of pride in his voice.

Jill shrugged nonchalantly and returned to her seat. “Fine, have it your way,” she decided, ending the discussion prematurely. If Nicholai was determined to brave the outbreak alone, Jill would be more than happy to oblige. _I hope you get wrecked, asshole._

“I did not take you for a defeatist.”

“I’m not, but I can recognise a lost cause,” she sighed, too worn out to argue further.

Nicholai regarded the discouraged woman thoughtfully. If she was going to be of any use to him, he had to find a way to rekindle her spirit. Unfortunately for Jill, that meant her problems were far from over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed reading this chapter, please try [lordbhreanna's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordbhreanna) take on [the subway scene](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23615539). She's an amazing writer, and her Nicholai is spot on. [Woven Into](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23533471) is a personal favourite of mine.


	3. Beneath the Clock Tower

# Beneath the Clock Tower

_I think you will find  
When your death takes its toll  
All the money you made  
Will never buy back your soul_  
  
— **Masters of War, Bob Dylan**

Nicholai watched the young woman writhe in agony through the wooden bars of the portcullis. White froth was drooling from her mouth as her chest heaved, her back arched, and her limbs thrashed. Then she went limp.

From a safe distance, every second of Jill Valentine's intense battle against the metamorphosed bioweapon had been recorded on video. She fought bravely, defying death with each timely dodge as she bombarded the creature with explosives. The magnificent performance made her inevitable demise seem rather anti-climactic.

After examining the creature, Nicholai circled around to the other side of the gate where Jill had fallen. _Such a shame,_ he thought, squatting down beside her. _Just when I was starting to respect you._ Up close, the woman’s blanched skin appeared exceptionally fragile, as if it would tear at the slightest touch. She reminded him of Sleeping Beauty, waiting patiently to be awakened from her perpetual slumber by true love’s kiss.

He studied Jill meticulously while replacing his fingerless gloves with a pair of latex ones, making mental notes of any visible symptoms caused by the spreading infection. When Nicholai grabbed her arm, she flinched and mumbled something inaudible. He cocked his head in surprise.

“H . . . help . . . me,” she stammered softly, her trembling voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Oh, you are still fighting?” Impressing Nicholai was no mean feat, but, even in her current predicament, Jill managed to amaze him. “Commendable, young one. Alas, I am not your Prince Charming; therefore, I will not be saving you. But, perhaps, you can do me one last favour before we part ways.”

Silence.

_Khorosho, I will interpret that as consent._ Nicholai used a hypodermic needle provided by his client to extract the contaminated blood from her veins, transferred the red liquid carefully to a labeled vial, sealed it, and stored the sample in one of the empty pockets on his vest. “ _Spasibo,_ ” he said with a wicked smile. _Your legacy, Miss Valentine, will make me a very rich man._

Jill's condition worsened by the minute and, for a split second, Nicholai considered shooting her. Surely, after everything she had been through tonight, the tormented woman deserved the mercy of a quick death. But something stayed his hand, and Nicholai's gun remained holstered. “ _Do svidaniya, printsessa,_ ” he said quietly, bidding Jill a final farewell, and left her, absent true love’s kiss, on the blood-smeared cobblestones beneath the clock tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stepped out of my comfort zone on this one to write from Nicholai's point of view. This take on the clock tower scene will be relevant in a later chapter. It was inspired by a personal interpretation of the Unfinished Activity Log file from the game.
> 
> I translated the Russian myself from Cyrillic. Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.


End file.
